Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Teaser Tuesdays: The Milk Party

Today is Teaser Tuesday, which means that I provide you with a teaser of an upcoming work!

For our first Tuesday, I'll be submitting The Milk Party, a milking story that's sure to satisfy anyone's sweet tooth.

Cover art after the jump!

... “You’re always looking for a new brand of indecency, aren’t you?” James Carver asked of his best friend Adam, who currently had him tied up with a sack over his head in the backseat of his open-top Jeep Wrangler. James could feel the cool air whipping past through the thick fibers of the burlap bag, as well as the chill in his fingers, stinging from the exposure. Of course, Adam would have the top down on a night like tonight. He could never pass up the opportunity to look like a badass, even if he was the only one who actually gave a damn about stupid shit like that. 
Adam, James reflected, had never really moved past high school. He still hung out with the same circle of friends doing very little besides drinking and hitting up the clubs on the weekends. Clubs that he was much too old for, in James’ opinion, and from the looks on the faces of the girls Adam pursued at those venues, he wasn’t alone in that. Objectively, James could admit that Adam was still a very handsome guy, and he’d kept in good shape since his wrestling career ended on graduation day, but that didn’t change the fact that he possessed all the maturity of a mayfly, and that women had started to notice. 
He tried to sit up, but was roughly pushed back down by a hand whose owner he was unable to identify. He scowled as peals of laughter rose up above him, only to be stolen away a moment later by the rushing arctic wind outside the Jeep’s roll cage. He didn’t much like being spread between the laps of three men, none of whom he was certain he even knew, and was quickly finding that his head ended up in the most awkward of places no matter how much he squirmed or shifted. One of them was even poking into his ribs, meeting his squirms with a furtive few of his own. James sighed, sick to death of these juvenile games. 
“Aw, come on, James!” Adam called to him from the front seat. He could hear the shit-eating grin on his friend’s face and it made him want to slap it right off. “You know the answer to that. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have made me best man!” 
I shouldn’t have, James thought bitterly, though since he was bound and hooded and on his way to God-knows-where, he declined to voice that particular opinion. ...

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